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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25321012">And Bigger Hearts Get Broken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincess97/pseuds/spaceprincess97'>spaceprincess97</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>~*~gays in space au~*~ [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dalton Academy Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gays in Space AU, M/M, Space Opera, the universal constant is that micah loves book and shane loves micah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:07:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25321012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincess97/pseuds/spaceprincess97</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh to be an AI, struggling with your non-humanity while you go thrift shopping with your human boyfriend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Shane Anderson/Micah Randall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>~*~gays in space au~*~ [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And Bigger Hearts Get Broken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Micah had a feeling that Shane forgot that Micah wasn’t human, sometimes. Like he couldn’t hear the soft mechanical whirring in Micah’s neck when he kissed him, or he didn’t know that the heat he felt when he held Micah’s hand was from electricity, not blood, coursing through his “veins.” Micah wished he had the same luxury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did what he could to ground himself. He wore thin wire spectacles, not because he needed them but because he found the weight of them on his face comforting. Even though he only had to see the words on a page once to encode them forever in his memory, he had gathered his own collection of soft, worn paperbacks that he cracked open again and again. There was comfort in their curling covers, their rounding edges; this was what books looked like when they had been loved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane didn’t understand. Of course he didn’t; Shane was fleeting, ephemeral. He moved through life with reckless grace, his heart and his desires splashing out on a whim. Clothes, books, blasters: he cycled through them like they meant nothing, and Micah supposed that, to him, they did. It was devastatingly human, and Micah feared the day when Shane might change him out for a newer, better, version too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Micah, look!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane held out a record he had unearthed from the churning pile of old Earther records. Micah took it gingerly, brushing his fingers over the glossy black cover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shane, you have every Carli Ray-Gun Jetson album. And at least three copies of this one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but—” Shane shoved an arm back into the bin. “I like to leave the CRJ albums on top. Just in case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Micah placed the album back on top of the eclectic collection of music that had found its way into their local Lentan thrift store. Shane didn’t even have a record player, his brother did, and Micah was sure that Blaine was tired of Shane crowding his record collection with synth pop.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about these?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane had abandoned the record bin to examine a stand full of glasses. He held up a flashy pair, a logo that said AEyes emblazoned across the temples. Micah had heard of them, of course. AI accessory tech had been around for ages. He didn’t own any, didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>any, but he’d heard stories about how tech like the old school AEyes Shane was holding could boost an AI’s abilities through the exosphere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put those back, Shane.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Micah, these ones could actually help you see! Wouldn’t it be great, to have glasses that can—” Shane stopped to read the tag, “enhance vision up to 60 feet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Micah’s face twisted into a rueful little smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like my glasses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gently pulled the glasses from Shane’s hands and placed them back on the rack. He kissed his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to look at books. Don’t do anything Blaine wouldn’t do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s anything worth doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Micah laughed, and trailed his fingers down Shane’s arm as he walked away. Micah knew that Shane just wanted to help. He knew that to him, the things that made him non-human were special, like superpowers or something. But to Micah they just felt like a constant reminder of how he would never be enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Micah inhaled, the scent of paper and binding glue filtering through his respiration processors. He’d picked through the book section in every thrift store in Orionid County more times than he bothered to count; he knew which books had recently joined the shelves just by looking at them. Maybe it was silly, but the thrill of finding a new novel to add to his collection never faded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in the middle of examining a worn copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Picture of Dorian Gray </span>
  </em>
  <span>when Shane came bounding up to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blaine called.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d he say?” Micah asked, half-distracted by the book in his hands. Shane sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He needs us back home. Something about Jude, a broken camera… I didn’t catch everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Concerned, Micah put the book back on the shelf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he’s fine, we just—need to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and pulled him toward the door. Micah didn’t protest, just gave the Basi at the counter a genial wave as they walked out of the store and into the Lentan sunshine. He laced his fingers through Shane’s. Micah closed his eyes and tilted his head up, letting his facial sensors absorb the heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Micah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get mad, but I got you something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Micah had a heart, maybe it would have stopped, because for one agonizing moment, he was afraid that it was the glasses. But then Shane pulled a book out of his pocket. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Moby Dick</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A paperback, with a big crease running down the front cover. Micah took it from him, flipping through the yellowing pages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Shane would leave him behind someday. Maybe he wouldn’t. But did it really matter, Micah thought, if he got to have all this right now? He ran a hand through Shane’s curls and kissed him, holding the book close to his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shane grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not as much as I love you.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>GIS is the creation of my wife, Bridget. Truly, this is her universe, I'm just vibing here.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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